


like what you say

by aquaexplicit



Series: after party [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Canon Character Death (Eobard), Creep factor, Eobard Reminesces About Smut But No Actual Smut Here, Established Relationship, M/M, Possessiveness, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaexplicit/pseuds/aquaexplicit
Summary: “I would like you to say my name.”Cisco blinks. “Like, in the throes of passion?”“That would be preferable,” Eobard answers honestly. "But I'll take what I can get."





	like what you say

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the tumblr squad that talks to me about reversevibe so i'm not just screaming about it into the void alone. sequel to "tonight i'm gonna let the devil in" but you don't need to read that to get this. pretend this happens before eobard kidnaps eddie.

“You said you only did what was necessary. Nothing more, nothing less.” Cisco remains seated in his desk chair, fingers shaking over his keyboard. His neck is curved crudely over the laptop, the same way he always sits, and Eobard can feel knobs of Cisco’s spine under his fingers even though he’s nowhere near him. “Are you here to tell me how fucking me was necessary to your plan?”

Eobard leans in Cisco’s bedroom doorway. “No.”

Cisco curls his hands into fists. “What about almost killing me? Was that necessary?"

“Yes. You would’ve stopped me otherwise,” Eobard says simply.

He won’t risk everything he’s worked for to explain that the first time he ever saw Cisco it was from the other side of a wall of glass, rotting away in the cell he helped Cisco build. Cisco might understand, if Eobard told him, how painful it’s been to work side by side, to touch him, to adore him, knowing Cisco will help The Flash cage him, but he can't squander 15 years of planning for Cisco's empathy.

Cisco understanding is not nearly as important as getting home. It would only be a minor balm on the still open, still festering wound of failure.

Eobard can’t afford the luxury of Cisco’s forgiveness.

“So, what? You’re here to finish the job? Tell me again that you love me like a son - which is messed up, by the way, considering I let you handcuff me to your bed a few nights ago.”

Regret is a waste of energy but it still settles like dust in Eobard’s throat. If he’d known tonight would be the night all of his plans imploded into themselves, he wouldn’t have uncuffed Cisco in the first place. 

“I only wanted to express that you meant a great deal to me, Cisco. You still do. You always will.”

Cisco finally spins in his chair. The force of it shakes the desk. There is so much fury cording his body still and straight, Eobard can feel it as deeply as he once felt the speed force. The Flash robbed him of that as he robbed him of all the gentility Cisco once directed his way.

“Why are you here?” Cisco crosses his arms over his chest. Eobard can see the blood red rimming his eyes, the pink pressed angrily into his cheeks. There is the familiar urge to comfort, to pet and praise and kiss away Cisco’s despair. “Come to crush my heart again?”

“Again?” Eobard asks.

Shifting, Cisco waves his hand. “Metaphorically.”

“It brings me no pleasure to see you in such pain. You must understand. I hurt you, yes, and I take responsibility. But the Flash is just as responsible.”

“Barry’s never hurt me - ”

“He will. He’s selfish, Cisco, and short-sighted, and as much as I’ve seen him grow I know he will fall. He will fail. And he will destroy everyone he loves before he destroys himself.”

Cisco’s expression is as flat as Eobard has ever seen it. No emotion except for disbelief and Eobard knows it’s not only a response to his words but to Eobard himself. 

“That sounds overdramatic. And fake. And I don’t believe you, because guess what? It turns out you’re the bad guy!”

“I am not the villain,” Eobard insists, knowing he’s edging into dangerous and unnecessary territory. Cisco doesn’t have to understand Eobard’s rage and he doesn’t have to look at Eobard as his hero anymore for the goal to be achieved.

But Eobard _wants._

“You killed Barry’s mom,” Cisco says, holding up one finger as he counts down Eobard’s sins. “You tried to kill Barry. You tried to kill _me_. You caused the particle accelerator explosion on purpose which destroyed countless lives, including the lives of two of my best friends. And to top it all off you’ve been tricking me into betraying the people I love and literally everything I believe in for the past few years.”

That draws Eobard into the room. Cisco pushes his chair back against the desk and sinks into himself as Eobard gets closer. Eobard stops moving. He would hold up his hands to show Cisco he means no harm, but he doesn’t think that would grant Cisco any comfort.

“No. I’ve never tricked you. I’ve never lied to you through anything but omission.”

“So I never directly asked hey, are you a psychotic time traveling speedster who came from the future to murder my bff when he was a little kid? You’re still a liar. You’re still a murderer.”

And still the man Cisco loves.

Eobard doesn’t need to say it. Cisco wouldn’t have been able to cut all of the affection out of his heart so easily, no matter how cruelly Eobard gripped it.

“Nothing between us was a lie.”

Cisco scoffs. “Everything between us was a lie. You used me.”

“No.”

“You slept with me to keep me close. You made me fall - feel for you, made me think you felt for me, all so you could get back to your time. Our time be damned.”

“I did need you to help me get back, yes. I knew your mind, clever as it is, and your heart would be essential to my return. I had to have you on my side.”

“So you put me on mine.”

Eobard narrows his eyes. Something that feels teasingly close to anger pulls tight under his skin. It’s gentler, though, and buzzes like his speed. He’s only ever felt it with Cisco. “Do I need to remind you it was you who pursued me? Or have you forgotten the night you came into my office - ”

“That was - that’s not fair. I thought you were Dr. Harrison Wells, one of my heroes, and that you were into me, and - oh my God. You’re not Dr. Harrison Wells. You don’t even really look like that, do you?” Cisco tugs at his hair. “My longest relationship has been with a dude whose face I haven’t even seen. Christ.”

“I did try to dissuade you,” Eobard reminds him lightly. The memories of their courtship are still sharp in his mind. Cisco was so earnest and eager and so very, very determined. “You didn’t take no very well.”

“Because you never said you were evil. I would’ve backed off. You also never said you didn’t want me.”

Eobard hadn’t said that. He’d told Cisco he was too young, that Eobard was too old, that people would talk if their relationship was discovered, that it would violate company policy, not to mention general ethics. None of that had mattered to Cisco. All that had mattered was when he glanced at Eobard with heat in his eyes, Eobard was always looking back.

“Because I did want you. I told you, Cisco. I never lied to you.”

Cisco runs his fingers through his hair again. There’s a dull ache in Eobard’s hands to take over. It reminds him of the phantom pain in his legs when he first lost his speed, feeling as if he’d lost his limbs completely.

“What do you want?” Cisco asks suddenly, sounding young and tired. Exhausted. “If you’re not here to hurt me, or to gloat, or to tell me your evil plot to take over the world, what are you here for?”

Eobard takes a gentle step forward. When Cisco does little more than watch him, wary as an animal, Eobard keeps walking until there’s less than two feet between them.

“I’m going to offer Barry a deal, which he will take, in exchange for sending me home. You’re going to help him.”

“Oh, so you can see the future now. That’s cool.”

Ignoring Cisco’s sarcasm, Eobard takes another step closer. “But that’s not why I’m here tonight. I have a request.”

Cisco regards him with a furrowed brow. He lifts his head as if trying to crawl farther from Eobard’s presence. “You’re not - you don’t think I’m going to sleep with you, right? This isn’t the speedster villain equivalent of a ‘you up’ text, is it?”

“I would like you to say my name.”

Cisco blinks. “Like, in the throes of passion?”

“That would be preferable,” Eobard answers honestly. "But I'll take what I can get."

A sly sliver of him had hoped Cisco would grant him one last night. One more time to touch him, take him apart the way Eobard had done so many lovely nights before the explosion and the necessity of the chair. A final opportunity for Eobard to take him the way he’d always wanted to: ruthlessly, with his speed and true nature at his disposal, with his real name pouring filthy and beautiful from Cisco’s clever mouth.

“Never gonna happen.”

It’s a disappointing response but not unexpected.

“I assumed as much. But if being given the opportunity to make you scream my name is not on the table, then I would accept merely hearing you say it.”

“Why?” Cisco asks, his suspicion warring with his curiosity.

Fondness throbs bloody in Eobard’s chest. His Cisco, always wanting to know what makes things tick.

“Because I haven’t heard anyone say my name in years.”

The last time was when Barry had run from some other time, searching out the speed equation in a misguided attempt. It had shaken Eobard to his bones to hear his name and he’d only heard it from the Flash. The idea of returning to his time without hearing it from Cisco, without Cisco truly knowing him -

Eobard understands it’s self-indulgence. He can admit much of his time with Cisco has been. But he has earned it.

“That’s...weird,” Cisco says after several moments. “And somehow one of the creepier things you’ve done. Why would I do that for you?”

“I have done many things for you over the years. I have been happy to do them. This is one of the few things I’ve ever asked of you.”

“You think I _owe_ you?” Cisco laughs without humor, as if the sound cracks his throat open, and Eobard wants to soothe it. He could run his fingers over Cisco’s neck, kiss the shiver of it, ease Cisco's doubt. He's done it so many times before. “I’m not doing you any favors, pal. Now if that’s all..."

“Cisco. It’s one simple request. It’s nothing compared to what the Flash has asked of you, what any of them have asked of you.”

Cisco clenches his jaw. “Barry is my friend. I’d do anything for the people I care about. That doesn’t include you anymore.”

“Now who's the liar, Cisco?” Eobard tilts his head. “We both know you can’t dismiss what you feel for me so easily, no more than I can dismiss what I feel for you.”

“Which is what, exactly? Amusement? Lust?”

“Love.”

And Cisco stands. It’s a flurry of motion, all rage and beauty colliding in the same storm that wrought all of this in the first place, bringing Cisco to face him. Cisco stares up at him with all the fury of a hurricane. It’s breathtaking.

“Don’t,” Cisco says, low and dangerous. Eobard’s awareness of Cisco’s energy intensifies.

He’s only witnessed Cisco’s anger a few times, always a result of his family, and he’s seen Cisco’s limbs move with its force. Generally those times ended in some rather interesting, aggressive sex that left both of them with bruises. Eobard’s breath quickens.

“Don’t you dare ever say that word to me again.”

“There’s no other word to describe what’s between us.”

Cisco inhales sharply. “There are lots of other words. Fucked up, for example, which is more of a phrase, but I think it encapsulates our situation much better.”

“If you say it for me, I’ll leave. I’ll never ask anything of you again.”

“And what’ll you do if I don’t? Hang around my apartment and annoy me to death?”

“I don’t want your death, Cisco. I told you. I don’t want to cause you pain.”

Cisco’s nostrils flare with his anger and he shakes his head, hair shifting over his collar. Eobard wants to card his fingers through the curls one more time, wrap his lips around Cisco’s bones and leave a final garden of purple. Cisco was always most beautiful marked by Eobard’s desire.

“But you will, if it gets you what you want.”

“If it’s the only way to get what I want,” Eobard amends. “Yes. I will.”

“Fuck you,” Cisco says, but it lacks heat. His words are colored by all of their regret and his limbs seem leaded with grief.

Eobard would guide him to bed, now, if Cisco would let him. Coax him into pleasure gently, fuck away all of the pain until Cisco was bright and glowing and happy again.

Carefully, so as not to distress him, Eobard brings his palms to Cisco’s cheeks. Cisco flinches but doesn’t move completely away. Eobard holds him for a moment before rubbing his thumbs over Cisco’s skin.

“Please.” The word is strange on his tongue. He’s rarely said it as Dr. Harrison Wells and said it even less in his real life, the one he has to get back to or he will lose his mind. It feels correct to give this word to Cisco, however. Cisco won’t wield it as a weapon or mock it. He will either give in, or he won’t. “Please, Cisco. Allow me to hear you say my name, just this once.”

Cisco breathes out a huff and it tickles Eobard’s skin. The familiar anticipation of Cisco hums in Eobard’s bones. He thinks, for a moment, Cisco will acquiesce, as he so often and so beautifully. The heat that flows in the face of Cisco's submission licks at Eobard's belly.

He cradles Cisco's jaw, gentle, trying to show that the reverence he's shown Cisco's brilliance is still true. Has always been true. Cisco brings his own hands to Eobard’s chest, settling breeze light. For several moments, that's all they do; stand and breathe and memorize each other.

It's Cisco who breaks the spell. He rocks onto his tip toes, mouth hovering near Eobard's, and Eobard is sure Cisco is going to kiss him as sweetly as he always does.

“Please,” he says again.

Cisco brushes their lips together when he says, “No.”

Eobard's fingers tighten viciously. He doesn't know if it's Cisco or himself that closes the last parody of distance but suddenly his mouth bursts with Cisco's taste - candy and spit and bitterness.

Cisco's fingers claw at his chest, like he's trying to tear Eobard open and peer inside. Eobard lets him. Whatever Cisco wants, if it's in his power and doesn't disrupt his ultimate goal, Eobard will give.

He knows it will be their last kiss. Cisco's rage is fueling him now, but when it gives hold to sadness, Cisco won't let Eobard touch him again. Eobard savors it as best he can.

When Cisco yanks away, panting, Eobard presses their cheeks together. He noses at Cisco's hairline, taking in the scent of his sweat and shampoo. Eobard will miss this.

Cisco finally pushes him away. Their ragged breaths overcome the gentle hum of Cisco's laptop.

“Get out,” Cisco bites. The lovely flush of want is warm on his skin. If only he would let Eobard taste it one more time.

Eobard's fingers curl and uncurl. He settles them into fists. “Cisco.”

“You've gotten enough from me.” Cisco doesn't so much as twitch as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You're not getting anything else.”

“You will help me go home.”

Cisco doesn't miss a beat. “Only if Barry asks me to. I’ll probably tell him that we should just throw your ass in the cortex and leave you to rot first though.”

Despite the ire, the hatred that rings true, Eobard smiles. This is the Cisco he was so curious to know the first time he ran to this wretched place. Eobard made him this man. He will always have that.

“I will let you consider my request. Sleep well, Cisco.”

Cisco doesn't respond. Eobard thinks that's just as well, and sets off to collect his insurance. Cisco will come around. He always does. 

-

Fading out of existence isn't as painful as Eobard would've thought. The realization that he didn't win, as sure of victory as he was, as the Flash led him to be, hurts more.

It hurts so much.

“Help me, Cisco,” he asks, trying to reach through his dying to grip Cisco's hand.

Cisco is so powerful and he doesn't even know. If only his powers had manifested earlier, if Eobard had been able to train him. Something like keeping Eobard's very existence together would've been easy.

“I - I can't,” Cisco says, distraught. His wet eyes keep darting between Eobard and Eddie, bleeding out on the floor. “I don't know - Eobard, I can't - ”

Cisco rushes to him. His hands move though Eobard's body. He's crying in earnest now, wrecked and pretty, trying to tie Eobard back into the strings of reality.

Eobard can't touch him. Can barely see him. But Eobard can hear him.

“Eobard, please, just tell me - tell me how to stop this.”

He didn't win. All of the battles under his belt and the Flash still won the war. This whole time, he'd been wrong.

“ _Eobard_.”

His name sounds better on Cisco's lips than anyone else he's ever heard speak it.

At least he was right about that.


End file.
